With This Kiss by Victoria Lynne Read Free Book Online Page A

else?”
    “No, just you — and Mr. Randolph, of course.”
    “Can he be trusted?”
    “Mr. Randolph?” she echoed with a startled laugh. “I’ve known him since I was a child. I would trust him with my very life.”
    He considered that, and then nodded once again. “Very well.”
    “I hope you understand now why I felt it was necessary to divulge my entire background, Lord Barlowe. Ordinarily I might not have spoken so freely, but I felt it only fair that you be aware of all the surrounding circumstances… particularly as they pertain to the matter of marriage.”
    He glanced up at her with a distracted air. “Yours?”
    Her heart pounding in her chest, Julia looked directly into Morgan St. James’s cool gray eyes. “Ours.”
    Morgan’s first thought was that he hadn’t heard the woman correctly. But the expression on her face told him otherwise. She stared at him with a mixture of hope and dread as a small, trembling smile curved her lips.
    “I beg your pardon?” he finally managed.
    “Our marriage.”
    “You can’t be serious.”
    “On the contrary, I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life.” She leaned slightly forward in her seat and continued in a tone of desperate urgency. “Given my uncle’s recent determination to see me married off, I have given the matter a great deal of thought. Especially the issue of a dowry. If I had something of value to bring to the marriage, my betrothal would be of considerably greater worth. It suddenly struck me that I am not as impoverished as it would appear. I do have a dowry — albeit one that is of value only to you.”
    “And that is?”
    “Lazarus. I can help you find Lazarus.”
    Morgan regarded her in silence as disbelief coursed through him. Her proposal was as shocking as it was ludicrous. Marriage. The thought was too ridiculous even to entertain. A joke. Surely it was nothing but a joke — one that was made in incredibly poor taste. He straightened in his seat, intending to stand, bid her good fortune, and leave the room. But one nagging, irritating thought held him in place.
    Lazarus.
    Was it possible? His muscles tightened as images of that fateful morning flashed through his mind. Could this Lazarus person be the same man he had chased down an alley that misty dawn morning more than two years ago? Could all of London have been mistaken as to the identity of the dead man found in the ashes? Unlikely, despite Julia Prentisse’s conviction to the contrary. But as he considered the question, a flicker of uncertainty sparked somewhere deep inside him.
    If it was the arsonist sending those letters… If the man still lived and could be found…
    It would be worth any cost.
    Realizing she was waiting for an answer, he studied her with newfound curiosity. She didn’t look as though she were joking. Instead, the expression on her lovely features was one of dire earnestness. Interesting. He understood his own motivation, but what of hers? “You said your uncle has encouraged three other suitors who have asked for your hand,” he said. “Why this inexplicable desire to wed me?”
    A grimace of raw embarrassment crossed her features. Avoiding his eyes, she turned away with a light shrug and replied in a voice of patently false nonchalance, “They don’t please me.”
    “Who are they?”
    Her gaze snapped back to his, her sherry eyes wide with alarm. “I refused their suit. I couldn’t possibly reveal—”
    “Who?”
    She studied his face for a long minute in stubborn silence, and then a petulant frown curved her lips. “This is most—”
    “Who?”
    “Lord Edward Needam.”
    A misogynistic ass who was known to beat his mistresses when the mood struck him. “Who else?” he asked.
    She let out a sigh, replying with considerable reluctance, “Sir William Bell.”
    A mule-faced drunk up to his ears in gaming debts. “And?”
    A long pause, then, “The Honorable Peter Trevlin.”
    That name surprised Morgan. He had thought